


X Marks the Spot Where We Fell Apart

by Lesty



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: (sort of), Angst, Don’t copy to another site, F/F, Fix-It, No character bashing, Post-Season/Series 03, Some time has passed since season 3 took place, bittersweet but hopeful ending, but we can admit their flaws, in this house we love and respect everyone, look at Catra's growth kids!, no beta or proof reading we die on this hill like real men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-15
Updated: 2019-08-15
Packaged: 2020-09-01 13:43:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,546
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20259040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lesty/pseuds/Lesty
Summary: “You hadn’t lost me,” Adora said softly. “Not then.”“It wouldn’t of mattered,” Catra sighed. “Adora, I lost you the moment you found that sword,” she chuckled mirthlessly. “I made sure of that.”--Catra and Adora have a conversation at the bottom of a pit. That's it, that's the story.





	X Marks the Spot Where We Fell Apart

**Author's Note:**

> It's 3am and like most nights I'm absolutely fascinated by Catra's character, so I decided to do a character study with some catradora feels because they're tropes?? falling off of ledges?? they're journeys?? I mean, have you ever seen two people hold just so much narrative power, no one else could ever
> 
> The title comes from the Taylor Swift song "[Getaway Car](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FhPLQVlUiNQ)" =)

“It was easier, then,” her voice was flat inside the pit, bouncing off of the cold dirt walls. Adora rested her head against it, the dirt was rough against her back, almost damp against her neck.

She closed her eyes, listened to the systematic scrape on the dirt floor, the only sound in the pit they had found themselves in. The methodical _scratch, scratch, scratch,_ as her companion dragged a sharp nail through the course dirt.

It was strange really, that Adora knew how it was supposed to sound. Her companion was a stranger, almost. They hadn’t seen each other in so long, had lost each other even earlier than that. There wasn’t much to say.

_Scratch – Scratch – Scratch._

Adora huffed softly. She didn’t expect an answer, she didn’t really expect anything at all. It seemed to be too late for that, now.

_Scratch – Scratch – Scratch._

But then again, they kept coming back to each other, and – well, that _had_ to mean something.

Right?

_Scratch – Scratch – Scratch._

Adora wondered what her friends were doing, when they would find her. A part of her (that sounded suspiciously like Bow) whispered that she shouldn’t have gone off alone, that, that was something Adora didn’t have to do anymore.

And yet Adora sat, at the bottom of this pit, with nothing to help her out.

If only she could get her sword, which sat precariously on the edge of the pit.

_Scratch – Scratch – Scratch._

Adora let the sound of the dull scrapes on the dirt floor pull her into a soft respite from everything that she should have been focusing on. She didn’t want to fight, not today, not right now, not at this moment.

She didn’t want to fight at all.

So she wouldn’t fight right now.

She almost didn’t notice when the scratching stopped. An auspicious pause in the otherwise heavy silence they were sitting in.

“What was?” Catra said, her voice sounding miles away.

Adora cracked an eye open, watching Catra carefully. She heaved a heavy breath, sitting up straighter. “Before,” she waved a hand in the air. “All of this. Hordak, She-Ra, gosh, even when I became force captain. It was easier. You and me.”

Catra huffed quietly. “Right. You and me.”

They were silent after that. Adora watched Catra inspect her claws for a moment, before dragging a single one through the dirt again. Slowly, methodically, but without any sort of purpose.

_Scratch – Scratch – Scratch._

It was the only thing Adora had known Catra to be disciplined about – her nails. Their sharpness, their severity, their skill. It made sense, really, they were Catra’s main line of defence.

Adora rolled her shoulders, settling against the dirt wall once again. For a moment she felt a phantom crawl down her back, scratches that had once been there, scars that had once formed, from Catra’s hand.

_Scratch – Scratch – Scratch._

But that was a long time ago, now.

Adora closed her eyes.

_Scratch – Scratch – Scratch._

“It wasn’t though.” Catra said, after a moment.

Adora hummed, she ran through what their conversation had been about, what she had said. “What do you mean?”  
  
“Easier. It wasn’t easier back then,” Catra shrugged. “Not really.”

“We had each other, isn’t that what you wanted?”  
  
Catra shook her head. “You’ve never understood.”  
  
Adora sighed. She didn’t know why she was entertaining this. It was better to wait, keep an eye on her sword, hope that her friends would come. She didn’t need to listen to Catra, Adora wasn’t sure there was anything left for Catra to say.

And yet… “Explain it to me, then.”

_Scratch – Scratch – Scratch._

“You were the only one who actually cared about me back then, the only one who respected me. So I gave you everything and you never even realised, and for me, back then, that was enough.”

_Scratch – Scratch – Scratch._

“But you _left_,” Catra continued. “And you took everything I gave you with you, and I gave it to you because never, not in my wildest nightmares, did I ever think, ever imagine, that you would leave. So I gave it to you, everything, because it was you and me.

“I based my entire self-worth on you. No one else even liked me, but you, you were _everything_, and you thought _I_ was everything - well, _almost_ everything, and that was enough.

“But you left.”

_Scratch – Scratch – Scratch._

"I never asked for that." Adora said.

Catra threw her hand in the air. "I had no choice!” She paused, her eyes dragging up her arm to where her hand was poised in the air, glowing in the moonlight. She sighed, bringing her hand back down to the dirt. "When someone becomes your world, there is no other choice. They're everything, they become your everything. What do you give your everything except everything that you have to give?"

Adora chewed on her bottom lip and tapped her fingers against her thigh. She wasn’t sure what to say, what she _could_ say to a confession like that. But Catra dragged her nail through the dirt again, and the moment seemed lost.

_Scratch – Scratch – Scratch._

There was a time where Adora wouldn’t have been able to imagine them like this. Where, if she had been asked to describe Catra, it would have been loyal, daring, brave.

And that fell through, and Adora looked at Catra as broken, manipulative, enemy.

But it wasn’t like that now. Adora wasn’t exactly sure how to describe her, something had changed in Catra. It was unnerving, almost. There had never been a time where Adora hadn’t been able to read Catra.

Things were different though, now.

_Scratch – Scratch – Scratch._

“But I know you didn’t,” Catra said. “Ask for it.”

Adora opened her eyes, willing Catra to continue.

Catra groaned, and rubbed her hand over her face. “I based my entire life around you Adora, even when we hated each other – and I think it just made me worse. I just lived with this sort of ugly, angry infestation of all my worst fears and insecurities, and I blamed you, because you were always everything I wasn’t.

“Which wasn’t fair, I guess, but I didn’t really know anything else. You left and found something better, and I was too afraid to do the same. Well – not afraid, but I was supposed to have a purpose with the horde. It was easier for you, with She-Ra and the princesses. I didn’t know how to follow, I’d been doing it my whole life, but I couldn’t do it then.”

_Scratch – Scratch – Scratch._

“So that’s why you’re still fighting with the horde?” Adora asked, but there wasn’t any heat in her words, she didn’t have the energy for that.

“No,” Catra said. “I’m not with the Horde anymore.”  
  
Adora raised an eyebrow. “What are you doing now?”

_Scratch – Scratch – Scratch._

Catra rolled her eyes. “There isn’t anything to do. This whole business with the princesses, the horde. It doesn’t matter anymore, none of it matters, I –” she paused, then let out a heavy breath. “I guess I just realised that there wasn’t anything for me there, not anymore, and I didn’t have to keep trying to create something.”

A heavy pain sat in her gut, squeezing her chest so she couldn’t breathe. Adora swallowed thickly, forcing the pain away, even as Queen Angela’s face shone bright in her mind. “No one stuck by you after the portal?”

_Scratch – Scratch – Scratch._

“That was a stupid mistake.”

Adora nodded, feeling her head hit the dirt behind her softly with the rigid movement. “I – can I ask you something.”  
  
Catra hummed, pausing her movements to look up at Adora.

“About the portal.”  
  
“Yeah.”

“What was your goal with that? I can’t figure it out. It was like you wanted to blame me, but you wanted me back.”

Catra raised an eyebrow, but it was contemplative, almost as if she was amused. “You care?”  
  
“Well yeah, everything’s all so…” Adora flicked her hand in the air. “Different now. You’re different, and I don’t get it.”  
  
Catra sighed and gave a tired shake of her head. “I don’t know, it was complicated.”

“Complicated?”  
  
“Well, I wanted to be separate from you, so I did the opposite of what you were doing. It was personal, everything between us was personal, and I just didn’t care. I lost you, I had nothing left to lose.”  
  
“You hadn’t lost me,” Adora said softly. “Not then.”

_Scratch – Scratch – Scratch._  
  
“It wouldn’t of mattered,” she sighed. “Adora, I lost you the moment you found that sword,” Catra chuckled mirthlessly. “I made sure of that.”  
  
Adora shrugged, but she didn’t hold any anger at that, not any more. She was resigned, it was something that had happened, it wasn’t something to obsess over any more. “Yeah, you did.”

_Scratch – Scratch – Scratch._

“I wanted to blame you,” Catra said. “I wanted to blame you _so_ badly, like it’d make me feel better. Which just hurt because I didn’t really want things to be your fault, I never wanted to be your enemy.”  
  
Adora sighed. “You didn’t do a very good job of that.”

“I know.” Catra said, but there wasn’t any bite to it, no unresolved anger. Just a depressing sort of weary finality, like Catra had accepted how their fate had gone.

Adora wasn’t sure how to feel about that, except that it made her chest feel heavy.

“So everything you did, was to spite me?”  
  
Catra shrugged. “No, I did it for me. I was angry, I wanted to prove myself, I wanted… I don’t know what I wanted.”  
  
_Scratch – Scratch – Scratch._

“I have a question too.”  
  
Adora hummed. “The portal?”  
  
“No, not the portal. It’s stupid.”

Adora rolled her shoulders into the dirt, listening for the satisfying _pop_ in her tired joints. “No, ask me.”

Catra gestured towards Adora. “You left, and you’re still wearing that _stupid_ horde shirt. Why?”

Adora blinked. “Out of everything, that’s what you want to know?”  
  
“It doesn’t make sense,” Catra said, twisting her hands in the air like she was trying to fold some sort of sense out of it. “Why would you even _want_ to wear it?”  
  
Adora frowned, pulling her bottom lip into her teeth. She really didn’t know. It had always just, been part of her, her clothing, what she wore, was just as part of her as everything else. It was a way to connect her to who she was, who she had been, and how those could be one of the same, as long as her core values were the same.

There was a time where the Horde had been her home, when Catra, Shadow Weaver, gosh, even _Kyle_ had been her family. That wasn’t something she was willing to give up.  
  
“I guess…” Adora paused, finally giving an answer. “I guess I just haven’t been able to let it go.”

“There’s a freedom to it,” Catra said, a rueful grin curling on her lips. For a moment, Adora wondered what those lips would feel like against hers. Would they be soft, or chapped from the wind. Rough, or gentle? Adora had missed seeing Catra happy, genuinely happy, without pain or grief or... spite. “Letting things go. You might want to try it sometime.”

Adora gave a lazy smirk. “I’m not sure I’m ready for that yet.”  
  
“You don’t have to let go of everything.”

“Have you?”

Catra turned away, her gaze falling back to the ground.  
  
_Scratch – Scratch – Scratch._

“No, not the important stuff.”

_Scratch – Scratch – Scratch._

Catra stretched her arms above her head, digging a hand into the dirt and pulling herself up. “Y’know, I think I can grip into this, climb myself out.”  
  
Adora’s eyes widened. “You think the dirt is firm enough?”  
  
“My claws will certainly help.”

Adora watched Catra pull herself up slowly, her hands digging into the dirt that lined the wall. It was almost as if she were dancing, using her body to propel herself forward, all fluid motions and infrangible strength. Adora was transfixed as Catra scaled the wall, her tail curling in to boost her up, her body twisting carefully to avoid the loose patches of dirt, to carefully get to the top.

No one except her could have done something like that.

Adore was hit with the sudden and violent realisation that Catra had _never_ needed her. She had always been incredible, always known just how to work someone to get what she wanted, how to work herself to reach her goal, whether that was becoming leader of the Crimson Waste, getting the best score in training, or scaling a dirt wall.

She was resourceful and independent, stubborn and quick-witted. She was able to work and think in ways Adora would never be able to imagine, because Adora had never had to think like Catra before, because they had always been side by side.

And watching Catra scale a wall, a wall that should have been impossible to climb, and watching her make it look easy, filled Adora with the an innate awareness that Catra was a formidable force. A force she had missed having by her side.

Adora hadn’t thought about that, not really, not after the portal. She hadn’t had the space in her mind to think about Catra, not with Mara and Light Hope, and her new terrifying understanding that she was a first one. And not with the unrivalled anger that had sat in her gut for so, so long now. Catra had been nothing but a side glance, a footnote like the ones in Bow’s fathers history books. An extra on the turbulent stage that was Adora’s life.

And yet, watching Catra now.

She was _phenomenal_.

Catra pulled herself up, rolling off onto the edge of the pit. The dirt she had scaled had fallen away, concaving into another loose section. Even if Adora had a tail and claws, there was no way she would be able to do what Catra did.

“Nice work!” Adora called, because it didn’t matter if she could get out or not, Catra _did_.

Catra knelt down and leaned over the pit, her feat cemented on the edge. She extended her hand.

Adora squinted at Catra's hand, eying it warily. She didn’t understand – did Catra… Was she suggesting she would pull Adora out?

"I won't let go." Adora paused, frozen in place. She bit her lip, her eyes cast toward the dirt. Catra was her only way out, Adora had to trust her.

She reached for Catra's hand, and watched as their fingers intertwined. Catra pulled her up with ease, helping Adora on the bank of the pit. Adora stared at their hands, which were locked between each other.

In another life...

Well, it wouldn't do well to think those things now.

"I... I think I was my best when I was by your side."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. But, I..." Catra sighed, pulling her hand away. She pursed her lips, her shoulders moving in a small shrug. "Bye Adora"

She gave a meek smile before turning back into the forest, the way she had come. Adora watched her go, it wasn't up to her to follow, not anymore. Catra had to find herself.

Adora picked up her sword with a small smile.

It seemed like Catra was getting there.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading this! 
> 
> If you'd like, you can hit me up on [tumblr](https://lesty-xx.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Have an amazing day =D


End file.
